Closet Revelations
by Huntybum
Summary: What happens when an accident happens in a certain physic teacher's closet with a married history teacher?  Some unwanted revelations will happen, and then some.  Warnings and other pairings are inside and updated with each chapter.  Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1 The Incident

**A/N 1: There is detailed yaoi, so if this disgusts you, you have been warned.  
>Pairings are USxUK and AsaFem!Kiku in this. <strong>

Dude, I have to show you these new stop watches the school finally decided to get!" Alfred said enthusiastically, waving his arms in the air all the while. Arthur smiled faintly and decided to humor the other. The rather austere history teacher was feeling quite kind that day so he followed Alfred into Room 107 –the Physics room that belonged to the intemperate teacher. Mr. Jones was prattling on about how _awesome_ it was that he could finally demonstrate to his students that reaction times vary depending on the user –or something like that. Arthur was far too entranced by the way Alfred's slacks hugged that supple –wait… WHAT? Mr. Kirkland was definitely not going down that road again. He became lost in thoughts of that cheesy monkey, Francis Bonnefoy and how it nearly ruined his marriage with Sakura years before. That was the one and only time he had explored the ranges of his sexuality.

"Yo, Artie. You're doing it again…" Mr. Jones waved his hand in front of Arthur's face, effectively snapping the Brit out of his self-loathing trance.

"Don't call me that," Mr. Kirkland mumbled, crossing his arms and looking the other way, scathing mood now evident. He found himself in front of Alfred's supply closet; the lucky bastard was in the science education group so he _needed_ one. The other teachers could definitely make use of a supply closet as well, but we didn't have those ridiculous chemicals that had to be kept out of the students' view.

Alfred could see the smoke coming out of the Briton's ears and his consternation grew when Mr. Kirkland started mumbling. "Stupid… Board... Chemicals…Closets…" Alfred's concern pushed him to do something drastic –Arthur didn't like being touched –and planted his hands on Mr. Kirkland's shoulders. He looked the shorter history teacher in the eye seriously.

From Arthur's point, it looked like Alfred was leaning down to kiss him and the color in his face drained, leaving him with a cadaverous look. Alfred's mouth moved but Arthur was too captivated by the perfectly sculpted lips. His cheeks soon burned in embarrassment when he realized Alfred was waiting for an answer. "I don't… What… did you say?"

Alfred sighed; Mr. Kirkland was definitely going through something. He could hardly hold a conversation with him without falling back into his thoughts. "I asked if you were okay. You definitely seem off today."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much," Arthur huffed out. He looked to his shoulder to see Alfred's hands planted firmly, but didn't say anything. He would never admit it out loud, but he felt a lot of comfort when those slightly rough hands were on him.

"I'll take your word for it," Mr. Jones said but didn't look too convinced. He removed his hands from Arthur's slightly trembling shoulders and opened the supply closet door, gesturing to the Brit to go in. "The stop watches were delivered here during lunch but I had too much work to finish up. I'm glad though; you get to open the package with me!" The American smiled toothily and followed the blushing history teacher in, searching for the light on the way in.

"Could you hurry with that light please? I can hardly see a thing –oh!" Arthur tripped over something large and he went tumbling down, knocking his knees painfully against the floor. Alfred, light forgotten, rushed forward to help the other man.

"Oh man. You okay, Arthur?" Mr. Jones asked, worry dripping from his voice. Arthur nodded to Alfred. Now that his eyes were finally adjusted to the dark, he saw that the American was crouched very closely, trying to get a good look at his knee.

"I'll be fine, you big oaf. I don't know about your stop watches though…" Arthur's voice got quieter towards the end as he took in the damage he caused. The stop watches were strewn all about the crowded closet. He supposed the least he could do was help pick them up so Arthur crawled on the floor, looking under shelves for the buggers.

Alfred nodded at Arthur, also setting to work to pick up the now slightly beat up equipment. After picking up all on his side of the tiny closet, he glanced to where Arthur was. His ass in the air, Arthur's face was slightly pink as he stretched his arm to reach behind a box to get the last stop watch. Arthur's pants were extremely tight, as Alfred could see the outline to _everything._ Mr. Jones's face turned bright red as his own pants started to feel slightly tighter. He huffed and tried to ignore his spontaneous –or so he told himself – hard-on while crawling over to the Briton. Alfred had way longer arms anyways and leaned over the history teacher to reach the fallen equipment.

Arthur could almost reach it; he stretched farther than he had ever before but still couldn't reach the damn thing. He was about to give up when he felt Alfred's presence behind him, trying to reach the stop watch himself. He loved the feeling of someone larger behind him. Arthur started to sweat, he had never been this turned on in his life and started to wiggle his ass as his trousers were getting painfully tight; he needed release, and soon. Things got even stuffier when Alfred's groin pressed on him –and was he also hard or was his humongous ego a replica of something else?

Alfred's fingertips were centimeters away so he leaned forward and was surprised to find his hardness in between the ass cheeks of a Britain angel. This angel was squirming, effectively grinding into the other man. Alfred groaned in pure, wanton pleasure; he forgot all about the stupid gadget he was reaching for. He grinded back, earning himself a gasp from the body below him.

Something in Arthur snapped when the body of so much shameful desire responded. He pushed back harder and whipped around, pinning the American below him. Arthur latched onto his neck, sucking and biting, while his dexterous fingers swiftly unbuttoned Alfred's shirt. Alfred, on the other hand, was too shocked to even move. Had Arthur done this before, with another man? It seemed so. Cold air hit his chest, followed by a swift, hot tongue exploring the exposed skin, which ripped him from his thoughts. Alfred grinded into Arthur from below and wound his hands in the Brit's already messy hair. He didn't like to not be in control, so he flipped Arthur back, reversing their position. Alfred's lips forcefully pushed onto Arthur's parted, willing lips. Their tongues engaged in an epic battle for control while hands explored the other's body and clothes were discarded. Alfred's hands ran over smooth skin and after dipping his tongue playfully into Arthur's belly button, he ran his hands down to the blond, coarse hair below.

Arthur mewled in anticipation when Alfred finally took his length into his hand and started to experimentally pump the other. He could tell Alfred was new in this department of sexual encounter and bucked his hips up, encouraging him to continue with moans and panting. After a few moments of this, Arthur took Alfred's free hand and wrapped his tongue around three of his digits, enveloping them in a thick coat of saliva.

Alfred looked down in confusion when Arthur started sucking off his fingers, but the man sure knew what he was doing. "J-just put them in. One… At a time, please," the Briton moaned out when he was finished. Understanding dawned on the American; he teased the smaller man's entrance before slowly pushing in one digit. The whimper below alarmed Alfred, so he stopped the small thrusts to worriedly ask if the other was okay. "Fucking move, you damn wanker!" howled Arthur as he pushed himself down on the intruding finger, trying to desperately find release.

Alfred quickly started the scissoring again and soon added a second finger. Arthur felt Alfred's erection pressing on his leg and knew he must be in pain, so he pumped the larger man. Alfred let out a small gasp when he was finally touched and thrust his fingers harder. Arthur's whimpers of pain soon turned to pleasure when Alfred unknowingly hit his prostate. "Th- there! Keeping hitting there!" Arthur groaned. Alfred nodded and added a third finger, determined to make the other cum before moving on to hit that spot again and again.

Moments later, Arthur let out a loud moan, shooting his seed into Alfred's hand. Alfred grinned and made sure Arthur was watching before licking the stickiness from his mitt. The physics teacher started to pump the other until he was again fully hard before lifting Arthur's leg over his shoulder, and positioning his member at the entrance to heaven. Arthur nodded encouragement; Alfred pushed in slowly until he was fully sheathed in the heat of the beautiful angel before him. He waited until Arthur was ready, kissing away the small pools of tears of pain-pleasure on the corners of his eyes. Arthur grabbed the American's free hand and squeezed, letting him know he was ready. Alfred pulled out slowly, testing the new waters. When the smaller hand gripped harder, he drove forward a little harder. Soon, he was thrusting at a steady pace, Arthur's panting and moans driving him crazy. Alfred pulled out, desperate to make Arthur moan more and cry his name. He flipped the Brit over a worn box and plunged back in, attacking the history teacher's beautiful heat from behind. The new position proved difficult to hit Arthur's prostate, but Alfred managed well enough when angled correctly.

Alfred was very close, and from Arthur's mewling, he was too, so Alfred reached around and feverishly pumped the other man when his thrusting became erratic. Arthur groaned Alfred's name loudly and exploded his load against the box he was slung over. When the tight muscles around Alfred's member constricted even tighter, it became too much for him and he finally released his seed, filling Arthur to the brim with it. They stayed in that position for a few moments, panting, trying to catch their breath before Alfred slowly pulled out.

Arthur stayed still, basking in the high of sex and also because he knew if he moved, he would surely feel the pain. There was hot cum dripping down his legs and he mentally slapped himself. He did it again –with another man. Sakura… _oh shit, Sakura!_ Guilt ripped him apart from inside. He wouldn't break down now, though. He painfully stood up and gathered his clothing before pulling everything back on, wincing slightly. Alfred, who had pulled his pants back on, sat on the floor, watching the Briton move about in an agonizing looking manner. His expression made Alfred feel like he did something wrong, which was definitely true. Alfred _knew_ that Arthur was married to Sakura, the beautiful Japanese woman who he had been with for years. Why did he have to go and screw this all up?

Alfred dropped his head to his hands silently hating himself, not taking any notice to Arthur, who was leaving the closet expressionless.

**A/N 2: So, what did you think? I have many people telling me to continue this, so I'm going to plan out the story. Don't be mad if it takes a while, please! Love you guys, forever. 3**


	2. Chapter 2 Confusion

**A/N 1:** Hi again, guys! I'm finally done with chapter two!  
>Warning: Slight smut!<br>Pairings: USxUK, AsaFem!Kiku, USxUkraine 

Alfred sat on the cold, linoleum floor in abhorrence. The hero isn't supposed to cause the problems –he's supposed to make everything right! He forced Arthur to cheat on Sakura, the charming, quiet woman he met at the faculty Christmas party. Arthur had been so kind to him when he first started work last year and this is how he repaid him? He heaved out a long groan of self-approbation, and looked up. Arthur didn't stay around after the "incident." Alfred was actually quite pleased with this; he didn't think he'd be able to face the man so soon after. He reached over for his button-up and pulled on the rest of his clothes. The physics teacher left his closet, new gadgets forgotten, grabbed his satchel, and slung the brown bag over his shoulder.

The time in between leaving the dark school and arriving at his condo was a blur for Alfred. He found himself standing in front of his door, hand on the knob, wondering how he should act, what he should say. Would he tell her? The door suddenly flung open without his doing, and Alfred was flung into a slightly smaller body with a very large chest –the same chest his face was now buried in. He quickly raised his head out of the two mountains of softness with a very red face and scrambled away.

"K-Kat! What are you doing?" Alfred practically yelled at the Ukrainian woman. His face softened a bit when her white-blonde hair fell in front of her porcelain face when she ducked her head in embarrassment. She sat on the floor, hands planted in front of her and legs tucked under. The blouse she was wearing was dangerously close to ripping in the front from her extremely large bust. "Look, I'm sorry for knocking you over," Alfred said and kneeled down to help his girlfriend up. He pecked her on the cheek and gave her a fake smile, hoping she couldn't tell what wrongdoing he just committed.

"It is alright, my love. I was just going out for more buttons. I've got so many shirts to repair!" Kat replied with her cute accent. Her head cocked to the side when she beamed up at Alfred. He couldn't look at her innocent smile anymore, and averted his eyes in guilt. Katyusha sensed that something was wrong and reached up to take his face in her hands. "Is everything all right, Al? You don't seem your usual self."

"N-no, I'm fine. Everything's all right… Everything's… fine," Alfred said. He took hold of Kat's wrists and removed her touch. "Go do what you need to. Um… Do you want me to make dinner?" Kat looked skeptical from his small speech, but nodded nonetheless. She titled her face up with slightly puckered lips, waiting for a goodbye kiss. Alfred's gut clenched and he almost threw up in her face. He was panicking.

Kat felt her face getting hotter the longer she waited for her kiss. She opened one eye to peek up at Al and saw he was sweating, looking around the room in desperation. Kat thought they were long past the nervousness of a new relationship, as they were well into six months of being together –she had even moved in. She sighed and opened both eyes completely. Alfred felt hot breath tickle his Adam's apple and looked down at his slightly irritated lover.

"Goodbye, Alfred," Kat said a little bitterly before quickly leaning up to steal a kiss. Alfred was too shocked to return the pressure of her supple lips, but it was over swiftly. He couldn't help but compare the softness to Arthur's body. Kat felt silkier, smoother than Arthur's calloused and rough skin, but that's one of the many things Al really loved about him. He fell into a daze of Arthur's lusty body and felt his eyes glaze over. Alfred even missed the whooshing of Kat's skirt as she left to run her errands. Alfred stood there later, contemplating dinner arrangements, shrugged and decided on eating out. He picked up his keys and walked out of the condo to his 1988 Notchback Mustang that had some scratches with candy wrappers and fast food trash littering the floor.

~^o^~

Arthur arrived home without incident –besides his backside hurting and feeling very dead inside. Sakura wasn't home yet, thank God. He walked through the large, Japanese style house to the bathroom to clean up. Arthur slowly unbuckled his trousers, too afraid of the consequences from earlier, but feeling too disgusting not to clean up. When he tried to bend over to pull his trousers off, the constant, dull pain doubled to be almost unbearable and he hissed in discontent. So, without bending over, Arthur slowly wiggled his hips until his slacks were around his ankles and stepped out of them, doing the same with his boxer briefs. When the pants were on the floor, he saw a great deal of the goopy, white substance that was smeared all over his arse and still slightly dripping out. Mixed in with the clear-white substance were small traces of blood. He and Alfred should use a better lubricant than saliva next ti –wait, wait, wait! They were not, under any circumstances, to do it again! There was no bloody way Arthur was even going to be able to confront the loud-mouthed American. He sent up a silent "thank you" to Saint Patrick that it was Friday and he could wait a whole weekend before having to see Alfred again.

Arthur heard the front door open and his head snapped up in panic. He quickly grabbed some toilet paper and wiped up all the evidence of his crime. As fast as he could with the pain, he bent over to pull his pants back on and was buckling his belt by the time there was a quiet knock on the bathroom door.

"Love, are you in there?" came the muffled voice of his Japanese wife.

"Y-yes, dear. I'll be right there," he called and limped over to slide open the door. "Hi," he whispered, taking in the sight of her beauty. She had shoulder-length black hair and wore a white blouse with a pleated, purple skirt that reached her ankles. The large wedding ring on her left hand sparkled brightly in Arthur's eyes, so much that he had to turn his gaze elsewhere.

Sakura's forehead scrunched in confusion. Her love was acting quite unusual this evening; usually he would automatically greet her with a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips and whispered words that made her heart melt every time. Tonight, however, he did neither of these things and she stared at his face expectantly. It was apparent that Arthur wasn't going to make the first move tonight, so Sakura reached up on her tip-toes and pressed her red painted lips to his, giving him a slow, long kiss. Arthur, for once, was very hesitant in responding, but eventually did.

Arthur could still discern Alfred on his lips and didn't want the taste of Sakura to intermingle with it. Yet, years of being together made him fall into the usual routine of kissing his devoted wife. Arthur's clenched hands moved from his sides to her waist without his knowing and the grip of her arms around his neck tightened. Sakura wove her fingers into his messy, blond hair and her body pressed very close to Arthur's. The leaning down he was doing to kiss Sakura was really killing his already aching lower back and he needed to take a breath anyway so he pulled away first. This left his small wife panting with a very cute blush dusting her cheeks.

"I love you," she whispered after she laid her head on his heaving chest. Arthur couldn't take the touch of a woman any longer and stepped out of her embrace, wiping the lipstick from his mouth. Sakura stared in slight confusion.

"The students were terrible today. I'd really just like a hot bath," he said in a resigned voice. Arthur turned on his heel and headed into the large white bathroom again. Once he was sure the dainty footsteps of his wife were a safe distance away, Arthur repeated the long process of taking his pants off. On autopilot mode, he filled the bath and eased himself in. The rough sponge bit into his burning skin with soap, but he didn't feel any cleaner. There were small love-bites all over his chest and hips –easy to hide – however, the small scratches on his arms were not. There was also the issue walking with a limp instead of his normal long strides.

He could end it all now, if he really wanted to: the painful backside, the aching in his chest that he didn't know was longing or guilt, the action of looking his wife in the eye afterwards. Arthur sank lower into the water until only his nose was caressed by the air. His hair floated around his scrunched face. One more inch and he would be submerged completely; he just had to stay under until he passed out and eventually drowned. Arthur couldn't lie; the prospect of leaving his complicated love life was very welcoming; he sank lower still. Yet, that little voice that was his conscience started scolding him. His nose was underwater for well over a minute now. Little spots of light appeared above the water; in his dazed and self-loathing state, they even looked like fairies.

The face of a blue-eyed American suddenly filled his vision and he felt like he was awakened from a long nap. He bolted upright, and inhaled as much oxygen as he could through his mouth and nose. He sat still, panting, and listened to his furiously pumping heart slow to dull thumps. Arthur, get it together, you bloody git! He raised his hand and brought it forcefully to his face where it made a stinging SLAP!

He didn't know how he was going to face Sakura again –should he tell her? Or keep it a secret? When he cheated on her with Francis Bonnefoy years ago, he told her right away; she was oddly okay with it. It was a little better that they were only dating back then, though. After he told her, she got very red-faced –he thought she was mad– and started giggling uncontrollably. She demanded details; he offered them with his face heating up. He hoped it would be compensation for doing the deed in the first place. The conversation ended with her having to rush out of the room to stuff toilet paper up her bleeding nostrils.

This time felt immensely different though. Alfred was… just Alfred. He wasn't promiscuous, like Frenchie; he was such an American boy, not a Japanese woman; he never got fat, no matter how much McDonald's he ate; he was genuinely nice and tried to look out for everyone; and the kids just seemed to love him. Arthur was also married this time. He was married to a woman. Someone he actually loved. He didn't love Alfred. Sure, he definitely had a bit of a crush on the man, but he had shooed away those thoughts too many times to count…

The bath water started getting awfully lukewarm and unsatisfactory for the Brit, so he decided to finish up and face his wife. There was one more dirty deed he had to do before getting out, however. Arthur painfully leaned his hips upward to snake a hand to his backside, where he slowly and carefully inserted a finger to his stinging entrance. Wiggling his finger around a bit had the remnants of Alfred's semen ooze out to the top of the bath water. There. Arthur felt at least a bit cleaner without the American's essence filling him to the brim.

But what was this loneliness that settled around his shoulders like a heavy, black cloak when he was standing beside the bath, watching the cooled, dirty water drift down the drain? The plush pink towel wrapped around his hips was warm, but he still felt his body shivering and trembling. He brushed off the rivers of lament that were hastening down his cheeks as water from his sodden, blond locks.

Arthur trudged into the cozy room that belonged to him and his wife once he composed himself. He chose long sleeves and pants and crawled into the too-big, pink bed sheets. Sakura was already lying on her side facing away from Arthur. He heard small slow breaths that indicated she was asleep. Usually he would cuddle up from behind, breathing in the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo; however, tonight he couldn't even stand to be in the same room. The Briton inched as far away from his wife as he could and faced the opposite direction. It would be many sleepless hours before he succumbed to his nightmares.

~^o^~

Alfred sat at the small table in his beat-up condo. Kat should be back any minute now, so he decided to hold off eating his Big Macs until she arrived. He didn't even feel that hungry –which was odd since he always had pangs of hunger– just… what were these emotions he was feeling? Al certainly felt happiness, for he finally got to see and feel the beautiful Brit squirm under his touch. Yet, when he thought of the consequences that Arthur would face, his gut clenched and he felt like running to the bathroom to vomit.

He forgot his churning stomach when the front door squealed open to reveal his Ukrainian lover. When she laid her eyes upon him, the scowl on her face was replaced with a look of pure adoration.

"Pryvit, Alfred," she said. Kat's loving gaze dropped to the table strewn with McDonald's bags. "Ah, you and your beloved cheeseburgers." She smiled and took a seat next to Alfred at the small table and dug in before Al could reply. This was one of the things Alfred really liked about Katyusha: she understood his love of fast food and hardly ever complained when he wanted it. Save for the week he wanted it every day; she ripped him a new asshole for that. Helping herself to one of the many Big Macs in the bags, Kat stole a glance toward Alfred. He was staring at the bags with a goofy grin on his face. Soon, that grin turned to a pout and eventually to a full blown scowl. This scowl then slowly morphed into a sort of depressing look. Kat's heart thumped painfully when she saw that Alfred was upset, but didn't press him for answers. She searched her mind for things that would typically cheer the American up quickly and flushed. Katyusha quickly chewed the last of her burger and started planning.

Throughout dinner with Kat, Alfred's mind was filled the images of forest green eyes that glinted with happiness, but the more Al dreamed of these eyes, the more they slanted in anger. Not for the first time that night, Alfred's gut clenched in guilt. He thought of the pain Arthur was doubtless basking in: culpability, remorse, and to top it all off, he had also bottomed on the cold, tiled floor. The burger Alfred was nibbling on suddenly became quite tasteless and he dropped it on the pile of wrappers littering the table. He wiped his hands on his pants and stood, casting suspicious looks around the room, for Kat had disappeared. He was so lost in the thoughts of his dirty deed, he hadn't noticed her leave.

Alfred decided then: he didn't care much what Kat did anyways, and set off to the small blue bathroom. After grabbing a plush towel, turning on the water, and stripping, Al slowly eased himself into the hot, streaming water. He let the water soak his hair and run over his skin, making it turn slightly pink under the heat. The skimpy, clear shower curtain was thrown to the side, revealing the surprised and exposed American. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Kat, who was also naked, stepped into the shower with him.

"You don't mind if I join, do you?" she asked sweetly, eyelashes casting long shadows down her face. Her large breasts were pushed out more than normal, as if seeking the attention their owner so desperately pursued. Alfred's eyes bulged out, not helping but notice the roundness that made Kat's shirts always rip. He shook his head, to say no, he didn't mind; or to rid the image from his brain, he didn't know. He moved to give her more room and faced away from her, face flushing darker every minute. Alfred soon forgot about the woman in the shower with him –he really had to stop doing that – and his mind started flooding with large forest green eyes. The eyes bore into his very soul and gripped his heart in a vice grip, making it thump in intensely. Scenes from earlier flashed through his thoughts like a blushing, panting blond, a flushed, supple ass high in the air, and the whimpers of pain-pleasure that escaped both men's lips. He desperately wished Sakura and Katyusha away, not only for the hot sex but so they could wake up to each other, laugh together, and shower with each other without the confines of women. He felt a twitch of pleasure down below at the mere thought of a lust-filled Arthur waiting for him without a guilty conscience.

"I see you're not so… down anymore," came the lusty voice of Kat. He turned his head to stare at her; she was ogling at his trembling member while licking her lips like candy in front of a child. Alfred slowly turned around and Kat clashed her too soft lips with his slightly chapped ones. She ran light fingers slowly down Alfred's wet chest while feebly fighting for dominance with her skilled tongue. Alfred couldn't lie; it felt good to have Kat's breasts pressed against his chest with her erect nipples tickling his own. He couldn't help but feel extremely excited. Kat had him pressed up against the shower wall as she moved her wet kisses down to Al's neck. She reveled in the clean scent of him and the feel of his hair between her fingers.

The abruptness of Kat's assault left Alfred in a confused daze. He didn't know how to react or think. He just took it all in and stored it away for later, better examination. He imagined Arthur whispering naughty things in his ear and licking a path down his chest like Katyusha was currently doing. She knelt on the soaked, hard surface of the tub and stroked the insides of Alfred's quivering thighs. Kat breathed heavily onto his almost-hard member, and it twitched in an enthusiastic response. Al gasped in surprise when she seized the base of his cock and licked the tip teasingly. She felt him get fully hard and started pumping after taking a little more than the tip into her mouth. She sucked lightly, trying to get a reaction out of Alfred.

He started panting and clutched helplessly at her shoulders for support. Katyusha smiled for she had succeeded and took as much as she could of him into her mouth, avoiding her teeth like the plague. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as Kat's mouth sucked and her tongue worked around the tip and sides of his appendage. His head felt like exploding and he let out a deep groan as she picked up the pace. Alfred's breathing quickened a great deal and his shaking hands moved from Kat's shoulders to grip her hair in a fervent hold. He leant his head against the wall and pushed his pulsating manhood farther into her mouth. She was forced to open her otherwise useless trap even more and relax her throat. Kat knew the signs of completion and hummed around the intrusion of her mouth. She had his whole cock in her mouth and started massaging the happily hanging sack in between Al's legs, and he let out a loud moan. He was murmuring something breathlessly, cheeks flaming and knuckles white.

Kat's head starting darting so fast, she resembled a woodpecker searching for food –which was ironic in the least. Alfred let out one last moan before exploding into her expert mouth.

"A-Arthur!" he yelled as he came. Kat looked up with a bemused expression. _Arthur…? Huh?_ Semen dribbled from her now empty mouth as the rest swirled down the drain, like Alfred's composure. He slid down the wet wall and dropped his head in his heads. Hot tears made their way down Al's cheeks as he sobbed, and Kat held him in her arms, still confused about his outburst.

**A/N 2: **Sorry for any confusion getting these. I'm still new to uploading and this sigh isn't exactly a joy to navigate.  
>Please be gentle with reviews! Lots of love. 33<p> 


	3. Chapter 3 The New Student

**A/N 1: Hey, kiddos! So, I have decided that instead of uploading on the 19****th****, I'll be uploading BY the 19****th****. Sound good? Also, there are some new pairings!  
>Warning: BABY SMUT<strong>

**Pairings:**

**USUK  
>AsaFem!Kiku<br>AmeriFem!Can  
>PruFem!Can<br>SpaMano  
>USUkraine<br>FrUK**

Arthur's stride to his large desk was short and painful. His arse still hurt a bit from Friday, but he knew he could manage. The early Monday morning light forced its way through the blinds and lit up the classroom in an almost ethereal glow. Arthur had exactly thirty minutes to get his lessons ready and drink his third cup of tea–his usual routine. Yet, today he felt on-edge, twitchy, and distracted. He wasn't ready to face the loud-mouthed American that had invaded his body and soul. The way Arthur had called out Alfred's name so wantonly made the Brit's face light up in a glow of pink embarrassment and guilt. He sat at the large organized desk and rested his head in his hand. He wasn't one to cheat; the act had just happened. He couldn't exactly tell his wife, for the guilt made his eyes smart painfully and his lips trapped the words in his mouth. The words didn't bang upon his teeth, demanding to be let out either; they just choked him and left him to wallow in his misery.

The boy really was beautiful though. He had piercing blue eyes that gazed down to your very being and turned your insides to jelly. He had hands that were too big and clumsy but cupped and massaged and loved so tenderly it made Arthur's heart hurt. The boy's gentle, dirty-blond hair that hung loosely across his forehead, save for the stubborn cowlick that refused to stay down had Arthur break out in an invigorating sweat. Yet, it wasn't just these attributes that had Arthur's body reacting this way. Alfred's handsome personality had drawn the Brit in, and once he saw this he found himself shackled to the boy's very existence, as if Arthur couldn't live without him. The younger was always so happy, an infectious happy that had you smiling even when you didn't want to. He wanted to take care of and save every person he got close to, especially the students. Arthur knew Alfred was a kind and caring person just from the way the boy talked about his pupils –he never had anything bad to say and was always helping them strive for greater goals. _The boy really was meant to be working with kids_, Arthur thought. Before he could rebuke himself for thinking of the physics teacher, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Oi, you tea-sucking creep! You gonna actually teach us? Che palle! What's wrong with you, zoning out like we don't even exist?" a scowling, tan Italian boy barked out suddenly in his deep voice, making Arthur jump in his seat.

_Bloody hell, _he thought. _I didn't even finish planning the lesson! I can't believe I was woolgathering that entire time. _He was so surprised with himself, that he didn't notice when another more bubbly Italian spoke up.

"But, Lovino! You get that cute look on your face when we're in Spanish class. You don't need to be so mean, grande fratello!" The brothers' bickering was passed back and forth as the elder Italian's blush deepened, and the classroom filled with muffled laughter. Arthur continued rummaging around his desk, desperately looking for papers to distribute before he reprimanded the two miscreants. 

Alfred was feeling god dammed _good_ today. The tension in his shoulders had risen, and he felt quite relieved to go back to school. He couldn't wait to see his lover and plant sloppy kisses all along the Brit's face and to just hold him. Over the weekend, he had made Kat leave for good, and he realized that he had never gotten to do these things with Arthur. Their relationship before they made love consisted of redundant pranks and tomfoolery as well as some slight hints and checking out asses while the other wasn't looking. Arthur hadn't liked him from the beginning, but they soon became very close –best friends even –despite the halfhearted insults on Artie's behalf. Their relationship had continued on the rise to greater than friends. Alfred knew Arthur was married and didn't want to ruin that for him, so he had backed off a bit for a couple of weeks. Those weeks were the worst. Every second felt like a year as Alfred forced himself to reverse the relationship, and he fell out of love with Katyusha. She hadn't even noticed, just went along complaining about life and her siblings. She was blind, loving Alfred even as he didn't return the pressure of her kisses and hugs. Alfred couldn't even remember why he was attracted to her in the first place. With her, it started as a one night stand after a late-night college party; but forget that! Arthur was still on his mind.

Even though it was for the best, even though it killed him, Alfred had to stop. He stopped eating lunch with the Brit, stopped going to the bar together every Saturday, and stopped smiling and waving to him in the halls. Last week however, he realized that perhaps he had gone a tad far with the reverse. For that reason, he had sought Arthur out to show him cool stuff and be awesome together _as friends_. That obviously hadn't worked. He hated the slow process of losing Arthur and missed him dearly. Those months of holding back were killer. That night on Friday, it was like something had snapped inside of him. When the man's supple ass was waving in the air, beckoning him over, he couldn't help himself.

Alfred had felt bad for a long while afterwards, but the act itself was absolute heaven. He figured if Arthur didn't like him, he wouldn't have cheated on his wife with the most awesome person in the first place. He couldn't wait until lunch to go see the no doubt blushing Brit. He had work to do now, however. There was apparently a new student today.

_Madeline Bonnefoy_, the paper read. Huh. That last name sounded quite familiar, but he discarded that thought, for the students had begun to pile into the small classroom.

"Hey, guys!" he said a bit too loudly "We've got a new student, today!" He looked down at his new list of students and read the name aloud, "Madeline Bonnefoy. Huh, I wonder where she is." A murmur of agreement ran through the classroom. A small cough silenced them, and all eyes were directed to the blonde in pigtails right next to Alfred. A plain, red hoodie hung loosely around her small body, a pleated, black mini skirt flared from her hips, red clips adorned her bangs, rectangular frames made a thin sheet of protection in front of her blue eyes, and small maple leaf charms clinked together around her petite wrists. "O-Oh, hey there, you must be Madeli-" he didn't get to finish his sentence as he was cut off.

"Actually, I prefer Maddie. Maddie Williams, if you don't mind," she said, her pink glossy lips parting almost seductively.

"A-Ah, but on here it says y-your last name is Bo-" Alfred managed to say in a wavering voice before he was interrupted again.

"Maddie Williams," she said, eyes narrowing and voice coming out clearer and stronger. Although it wasn't much louder than before, she gave off the air that she knew what she was talking about. Alfred felt so baffled, all he could do was agree and show her the empty seat in the front where most of the other girls were gathered. The group swallowed her with squeals of delight at getting a pretty new girl instead of one of the weird kids.

Alfred cleared his throat in hopes that it would silence the group of congealed teens. It was going to be a long period. 

Maddie walked into her new physics room and looked around in astonishment. The class was so infinitesimal, only about ten chairs in all. Her last schools were in Canada and France, where the rooms were three times as large as this one. It was a good place to blend into the wallpaper and disappear from the eyes of the bitch queens and their advisors who didn't own the gracious trait of mercy. Here however, it would be extremely hard to amalgamate into the shadows. Her new classmates pushed passed her as if she wasn't even there. The teacher called out her name, and she looked up. Maddie muttered an "I'm here," which was blatantly ignored. She sighed; maybe hanging in the shadows wouldn't be so hard after all. After a few seconds of clearing her throat however, she was finally noticed.

Her new teacher had dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes, and the light danced off his glasses happily. He smiled down at her toothily and spoke. Her eye twitched in anger at hearing the Bonnefoy name, and she corrected him with the name she would actually prefer. Since her eighteenth birthday was a few days ago, she could even change it to Williams if she wanted. After insisting that her last name was Williams and not Bonnefoy, he showed her to her new seat kindly. She was suddenly caught in a slew of many girls demanding answers to fuel the gossip train, no doubt.

When Mr. Jones had finally called the attention back upon him and was excitedly talking about wavelengths and frequencies, Maddie had the realization that she had learned these things already. She sighed rather loudly and rested her cheek in her hand. She could feel her eyes glaze over in boredom. She wondered if these girls would leave her alone after this class, now that they got what they wanted from her. If not, she could get used to the attention; it wasn't _unpleasant_, as long as they didn't try to control her or make fun of her like the last schools when they decided to notice. Her mind wandered back into the classroom and focused on Mr. Jones. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm when he taught, and the rest of her peers seemed to genuinely enjoy his speech. His smile was quite contagious, and Maddie found herself grinning back, cheeks forming a roseate hue. He gesticulated with his hands a lot. The French in her made her marvel at what else they could do.

She suddenly felt extremely hot and took her oversized sweatshirt off. The low cut, clinging blouse wasn't something she would normally wear, but the French whore back home –who was probably fucking a neighbor this second– insisted on picking out her back to school outfit; Maddie was able to sneak her favorite hoodie with her, thank God. She fisted a hand into her backpack to fish out the scarf that would have been bunched up under her sweatshirt and wrapped it around her neck discreetly and ran her hands through her pigtails to smooth the frizz. She felt the eyes of the boys behind her and her face flushed more as she attempted to pay attention to what Mr. Jones was talking about now. She couldn't focus. Maddie noticed that his eyes kept flicking over to her eyes and manifested cleavage and, each time her blush deepened.

They continued making eye contact throughout the class period, and some of the other girls noticed this. They cast amazed and jealous glances at her before scooting their chairs closer to her. Some even passed notes asking her to walk with them in the halls after class. She was so busy passing back "yes" to every girl that asked that she didn't notice Mr. Jones call her name.

"Maddie, can you tell me what are the units you use for specific gravity?" he asked. When she didn't answer he looked up from the blackboard where he was awaiting her answer. "Maddie?"

Maddie looked up at last. She hadn't heard the question, and from the looks of the other students, they were expecting an answer. "W-What was the question again?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Bonnefoy. I'm afraid I don't repeat questions to students who weren't listening. If you would, please see me after class. Now, does anybody else know the answer?" Mr. Jones said not unkindly. Maddie felt her blood boil at her proper name, more so than normal. Her cheeks were pink in anger, and she imagined tying the man up naked to force him through humiliation and possibly indulge herself. She mentally slapped that thought away. He obviously wasn't trying to be rude, but no one had ever gotten that kind of reaction of malice out of her before. This man, Mr. Jones, continued to intrigue her, and she vowed to know his first name by the end of the day. When the bell sounded and it was the end of class, everyone quickly gathered their things to leave. The girls whom Maddie had promised to walk with looked back at her expectantly before leaving. She supposed she would have to tell them all about Mr. Jones's "little talk" later.

Maddie stood up, forcing the chair beneath her to release a disgustingly loud screech to permeate the near empty room. Mr. Jones looked up and extended his index finger, commanding her to walk to his desk. The insides of her thighs tingled and her body shook in anticipation, for she had never gotten into trouble before. The thrill was amazing. When she got there, he sighed and looked up at her with questioning eyes.

"Were you perhaps confused about the lesson? I mean, kids usually pay attention in my class, so this is a first."

She sputtered, not expecting those words. She thought he would chastise her for passing notes, not this. And then, she realized an amazing opportunity had presented itself. "Y-Yeah, sir," she said, feigning innocence and stupidity, "I didn't exactly understand the work, so I was confused. I have to admit, my mind wasn't exactly here for a good portion of your lesson."

"Ah, just as I thought! You're welcome to stay after school to get some help. I'm here until 3:30 p.m.," Mr. Jones said amiably. A few students started wandering in for the next class, and Maddie felt her heart beat a little faster.

That time wasn't soon enough for the student, and she immediately shook her head. "No, I can't make it then. When is your lunch? I have a study hall 6th period," she said and paused. "I think that's during B Lunch."

Mr. Jones released a chuckle and Maddie found her little stroke of luck that had been avoiding her for a good eighteen years, "Of course. I eat during B Lunch, but I was going to do something then." The disappointed look on Maddie's face changed his mind however, and he said, "Well, the student is more important than the teacher's pleasure anyways. I'll write you a pass for you to come here 6th period." And so, Maddie Williams walked out of the physics classroom with a more confident stride and determined to come back.

Arthur's lunch announced itself much sooner than hoped. He had been so unnerved that morning he didn't get a chance to pack a lunch. Sakura would normally make onigiri or a bento box for him, but on Mondays and Tuesdays she had an early client at the office and didn't have enough time to do so. His stomach grumbled, but he was expecting Alfred to harass him this period and ignored his body's plea for sustenance. He picked up a stray paperclip between his thumb and forefinger and let his mind fall into a daydream as he inspected the inanimate object. Arthur stared so long his bottom started getting pins and needles. A desperate need to get out of the dusty room took hold of Arthur's entire being.

He stood suddenly and walked out to the halls. Arthur contemplated the paths: left, towards Alfred's classroom, right, not towards Alfred's classroom. He decided on the right and made long strides throughout the halls. He had been contemplating talking to Mr. Carriedo all day, anyways, so his destination was set. Arthur hoped to get some advice from the Spanish teacher all day. The man was literally from Spain, the country of passion, so hopefully he had some good pointers on what to do with his situation. Arthur grumbled under his breath the whole way there. He had no clue how he was supposed to ask Mr. Carriedo. He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost rudely walked into Mr. Beillschmidt.

"Hey, watch where you're-!" started the self-proclaimed Prussian before Arthur cut him off.

"Terribly sorry. Excuse me," he said quietly, eyes on his shoes before beginning his escape.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Arthur, c'mon! You still mad at me?" he called back, German accent extremely evident.

Arthur stopped in his tracks and looked back. Gilbert wore a plain, blue baggy jumpsuit and was pushing a trashcan around with cleaning supplies. His white hair shone in the bright light, and the red of his eyes stared back hopefully. Arthur guessed that this day would happen sooner or later, no matter how much he prayed it would be later. "Suppose I am," he said, walking back with a blush dusting his cheeks. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot, waiting for more excuses.

"Look," Gilbert said, "I'm really sorry for what we almost did. We were both drunk, and I _swear_ I'm straight. I guess we both just get gay when we're drunk." Gilbert laughed and Arthur's face flamed in shame and he averted his eyes. "I guess it wouldn't be a good idea to ask you to go out drinking with me and Mathias again, would it?"

"Certainly not!" Arthur practically yelled. Gilbert's face fell, and Arthur couldn't help but extend a hand to his friend's shoulder. "I forgive you, Gil, but I really don't think it's smart to waste money on alcohol when you're living on a janitor's salary."

"IT IS NOT JANITOR, I AM TOO AWESOME FOR SUCH REMEDIAL JOBS, I AM ZA CUSTODIAN!" Gilbert suddenly yelled.

Arthur threw his hands up and chuckled, "Of course! I remember." They chatted for a while longer before saying goodbye. Gilbert was headed toward Alfred's room, to "clean up," which really meant to strike up a conversation and waste time. Arthur continued on his path to the Spanish room a bit more confidently than before.

The door was slightly ajar and voices drifted out to Arthur. His raised fist slowly fell, and his face took on a more horrified look when he listened closer to the conversation.

"Do you remember the first word you taught me?" a voice with a deep Italian accent said. There was silence and what sounded like slow footsteps. A soft thud and grunt from a different male voice. "You taught me _besame_."

"Lovi, I-I don't think this is such a good i-" started the other voice before he was silenced.

"I can't help just sitting in this class anymore, with your damned back turned to me. Stop looking away, dammit. I-I want a _besame_. I need one. Antonio…" the Italian voice huskily whispered. "Kiss me."

Arthur heard a mellifluous moan followed by the soft smacking of lips. He backed away quietly, face extremely red. A-Antonio with a student? He didn't even know the Spaniard was gay! It boggled Arthur's mind. He quickly turned on his heel to run back to his room, where he expected Alfred to be waiting for him. When he got back however, the room was empty, just as he left it. 

Maddie walked down the hall during her 6th period study hall. All day after physics class with _Mr. Jones_, her newly found friends followed her everywhere. They thought she was_ cool_. Nobody ever had thought she was cool before! She felt her confidence and ego rise tremendously in such a short period. Maddie walked confidently and with purpose now. A small smirk adorned her face, and she wore her flashy clothes with poise. Her smile grew when she passed a janitor with white hair who stared at her with his jaw hanging open. Although he was really cute, she silently dismissed him with a flip of her hair.

Maddie didn't hesitate when she knocked upon Mr. Jones's door. She had a plan, and she would use the natural French in her to help her along. The old Maddie was gone and good riddance too! The old Maddie got her nowhere but the shadows. They were cool and quiet, but she was ready for some fun in her life.

The door opened to reveal Mr. Jones wiping bread crumbs away from his mouth. "Hey, Maddie! Come on in," he said through the bite of burger in his mouth. Maddie obliged and perched herself on the edge of Mr. Jones's desk. He paused after seeing this but shrugged and sat at his desk anyway. "So, what didn't you understand, today?"

"Are you from around here, Mr. Jones?" she asked suddenly, ignoring his question. She needed to get him comfortable.

He stuttered confusedly, "I-I... No, I'm not. I'm actually from New York City, which is like six hours away."

"It must be hard being away from your family. I know it is for me," she said a little sadly, begging for sympathy.

"Oh?" he said, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah," Maddie said, "my mom died a couple years ago, and I didn't even know my dad. He lived in Paris for a while, until he was forced to take me in." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Of course, it sucked for me since I lived in Canada and had to go to France with the bastard." She looked over at Mr. Jones. His face screamed pity, and he put his hand reassuringly on her knee. Score, she thought.

"I know it's hard losing a parent," he said. "My dad walked out on me and my mom when I was real young, and I had to be the man of the house. I wanted to become a teacher so I could teach boys to be real men and take care of their families." He smiled up at her and couldn't help but think she reminded him of someone. Maddie was suddenly a lot closer than before. Alfred noted that her eyes weren't exactly blue; hers had a bit of a purplish hue.

"What's your name?" she asked in a whisper.

"Mr. Jones," he said nervously.

Maddie took hold of his face in her hands and stroked the roughness. "Your first name," she said.

Alfred could barely hear what Madeline Bonnefoy was saying to him. Her name tickled the back of his mind. He was intrigued by her, yes; yet, he wasn't attracted. Alfred just wanted to know why her name sounded so familiar. "Alfred," he said in a monotone voice. He blinked once, twice. She was getting closer to him. "Maddie, do you know anybody by the name of Francis?"

"Francis?" she said. Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits of anger, and her face contorted in disgust. "I don't feel like talk about my sperm donor right now," she said haughtily before finishing her decent to his mouth.

Her kiss tasted like cherry lip gloss and innocence, and Alfred's heart started racing in a panic. He didn't want this. Francis was his cousin for God's sake! Maddie slid off the desk and onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his torso and taking her shirt off to expose her B cup breasts. Alfred was disgusted with himself for letting this happen, and he pushed her away. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

"What, can't you have a little risk in your life?" she whispered seductively and licked his ear.

"Disgusting," he said. "Get the hell off me, Madeline. You don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, I know full well what I'm doing," she giggled.

Alfred couldn't take it anymore and shoved her to the floor. She landed with a small "oof!" He stood and walked to the door stiffly. Apparently, his body did like it, even though his heart and mind knew it was the most horrid thing to do. "Get out. Don't come back unless it's for class, and even then, don't say anything."

She pouted, "What? Why? What did I do wrong?"

"Everything!" Alfred shouted. "You moved here. You were partially raised by Francis. Or didn't you know? He's my fucking cousin. Don't make me tell you again. Get the fuck out"

The look on Alfred's face was enough to curdle milk, even Arthur would be proud of him. Maddie rose from the floor, took her time dusting off her bottom, and pulled her blouse and sweatshirt back over herself. Maybe coming out of the shadows wasn't such a good idea after all. Alfred slammed the door after she stepped over the threshold. She looked up to find the same janitor from earlier just as the tears fell down her remorseful face. He had a surprised look and extended a hand toward her for comfort or to make fun of her, she didn't know. Maddie cringed and pushed past to get as far away from the classroom as possible.

It was pretty eventful for a Monday after all.

**A/N 2: YAY! I had absolutely no motivation to finish this, so I worked REALLY HARD. Heh heh. */shot**

**Like I said, BY the 19****th****, not necessarily ON the 19****th****. I seriously love each and every one of you guys, and I'm SO GRATEFUL. I cherish every comment on deviantArt and every review on FanFiction. Seriously, thank you.**

**And holy crap! I realized that I never credited my DEAR SISTER for BETA'ing every chapter. GOMENASAI! But, thanks so much, Sam! She has some pretty good smutty one-shots on here so get at it! Just search XSDansa. (: **


	4. Chapter 4 Rejected

**A/N 1: WASSAP? I feel like I haven't updated in forever, but I'm still making it by the date I promised. (:**

**Pairings:**

**USUK  
>AsaFem!Kiku<br>AmeriFem!Can  
>PruFem!Can<br>SpaMano  
>USUkraine<br>FrUK**

* * *

><p>Arthur had a rough week. He cut off most communication from Sakura, which was causing her to become very suspicious. He couldn't find it in himself to look her in the eyes, much less kiss or touch. She continued reaching out to him, however, and his heart broke every time he couldn't find it in himself to respond. She stopped cooking dinner and packing his lunch. They didn't even sleep together anymore; she had moved to the spare bedroom. One night, Arthur heard her talking on the phone about him. She had said something along the lines of "Something is terribly wrong. I think he's depressed, so I'm giving him a bit of space. No, no, I'm almost positive he's not cheating on me. Hey, Arthur is a good man, and he wouldn't do something that terrible and demeaning to me!"<p>

That was last night –the worst night since this whole situation had started. Sakura was in her bedroom, and the door was slightly cracked. He had gotten up from staring at the ceiling to use the restroom when he heard her say it. His breathing became shallow, and his heart clenched in despair and guilt. He held the tears back and quietly went back to the master bedroom. When he was alone, the waterworks refused to come, no matter how hard he tried to revel in his despondency.

Like every other night, he tried to figure out a way to fix this. He truly loved Sakura with all his heart, and it hurt to think of leaving her. Yet, there was that small voice that demanded to be heard. It shouted in a muffled tone, but he couldn't exactly hear all the words. The voice drifted away while he was home wallowing in his depression, and it got louder, almost able to be heard in school. His students were happy that something was wrong, for they got easier and easier work or movies to watch. He couldn't find it in himself to think up lessons, and he had run out of backup worksheets. Arthur was becoming a bad teacher in this way, and the students were starting to talk. His history classes were usually difficult; he tried to challenge the students. He was completely ruining his teaching reputation.

When Arthur was in school, he avoided Alfred at all costs. He was desperate to stay out of sight and out of his own room come lunch time. If he recalled correctly, just a couple days ago Arthur had forgotten to run to the custodian's closet to eat his lunch with Gilbert. He heard a knock on his door and ducked under his desk. Footsteps got closer and closer and stopped just outside the metal sheet shielding him from the intruder. It took every inch of his being to not jump out from his hiding place to see if it really was Alfred. What he would do then, he didn't know.

Mr. Kirkland opened his eyes from dozing off for the umpteenth time that day. It was just six minutes until the lunch bell, and his students were loud and rowdy as always. He shuffled away the load of paperwork on his desk and rested his head in his arms to muffle the light and noise. His mind wandered to fairies, unicorns, and other fantasy creatures as the world of classrooms, sex, and complications disappeared. It was the happiest place he'd been in since the day his troubles started.

* * *

><p>Alfred had made it routine to check Arthur's classroom for the man avoiding him every day. He wanted to know if The Incident was worth it, and if maybe they could change The Incident into The Single Best Moment on Earth. The moment they finally came together as one. He hoped to God that Arthur would accept him and love him unconditionally –the same way Alfred loved him.<p>

It was that time again, and he counted the seconds to the bell, just as the students did. They wanted to eat, and Mr. Jones wanted to find Arthur. His leg bounced and shook the room, and he bit his fingernails. The students chattered happily and for the very first time in his life, he wanted them gone. Usually, he had open arms for the children, but he couldn't wait much longer before his head felt like exploding. _Finally_, the ear-splitting bell rung above their heads, and Mr. Jones made it a point to be out the door before the kids could.

He knew Arthur had to be avoiding him, and he was in a race against him from leaving. Alfred ignored the "No Running" rule and sprinted, breathing heavily. He stopped just outside the history teacher's door and took a deep breath. All the eating out and fast food made him feel out of breath after a run like that, but he ignored this. His hand slipped on the doorknob from the sweat coating his entire body. He sent a hopeful prayer to anyone listening that Arthur would _please_ be in there.

He opened the door slowly and poked his head in. The room was dark and smelled dusty, like the books littering the corners of the room. Alfred was distracted by this, however. The whole of his vision was focused on the one man that ruled over his entire heart. He quietly closed the door behind him and walked with purpose to the teacher's desk. Arthur had his head tucked in his arms, nose pointing toward the door. A small sliver of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth, and his blond locks glittered in the dull light from the window. Alfred smiled and ran his fingers through the other man's fluffy hair.

The apprehensive American finally took in the smaller details –the ones that counted most. Small pink puckered dots littered the edges of Arthur's hairline, and dark bags hung loosely from under his eyes. He released the lightest of snores, as this seemed like the best sleep he had in days, and faint wrinkles outlined his mouth. Alfred removed his hand and sat on the desk. He didn't want to wake the angel up from his peaceful rest, so he decided on waiting. He would wait forever if he had to. Alfred sighed and let his chin fall to his aching chest. His eyelids felt heavy in the dark room, and he glanced to his right one last time before dozing off into a light sleep beside his lover.

Arthur awoke abruptly. His eyes still closed, he got a feel of his surroundings by smell and touch. It smelled dusty as per usual in his classroom, but a hint of something else invaded his nostrils. It smelled of grass heated by the summer sun. He suddenly felt bubbly when he took in this smell again with a contented inhale. Something warm and pleasant enfolded his numbing hand. He stretched his fingers to shake away the pins and needles and comprehend what this nice thing over his hand was. This thing felt slightly calloused and slightly larger than his own hand.

Mr. Kirkland's eyelids flew open, and his heartbeat elevated significantly. His green orbs were suddenly glued to the sleeping twenty four-year-old that had stolen his heart. He tried swallowing around the lump in his throat and sneakily removed his sweating hand from the hold Alfred had it in. He cursed under his breath when Alfred's eyes opened and fastened to Arthur's face.

Arthur's name was whispered elatedly, as if Alfred couldn't believe they were together again. His face and ears burst into an array of pink and red when Alfred leaned down to drop a chaste kiss to his forehead. The Brit started blubbering incoherently, and the other laughed happily. He suddenly found himself wrapped in the American's arms. It took all of his willpower not to return the pressure of the intimate show of affection. Arthur lightly pushed against the oppressor, who was gabbing about how happy they would be together.

"Alfred, I can't –," he was cut off with a long kiss to the lips. It was warm and sweet, like fresh apple pie cooling on a window sill. To his dismay, his hands traveled up Alfred's chest and lingered on the hard pectorals. He squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his fists. Arthur couldn't help the reactions the other man got out of him, but he also couldn't help the love he still cradled for his wife. Sakura's smiling face presented itself to his mind and he choked on a sob. He had made a commitment to her when he married her five years ago, and he wasn't about to ruin that now. With as much strength and willpower as he could muster, Arthur shoved away the object of all his dirty desires.

"I can't be with you, Alfred," he said, wiping his wet face with his sleeve. "I won't leave Sakura. It isn't fair to her." Arthur gauged the other man's face for a reaction. Confusion shadowed his face but nothing more. Not hurt, not jealousy, just confusion.

Alfred blubbered, "But you… and I? I thought we were…"

"You thought wrong." Arthur's face hardened, and his heart shattered with every passing moment. It felt as if he was tearing himself to shreds by saying these words.

"Do you love her?"

Without hesitation Arthur replied, "Yes, of course."

"And… You love me too?"

Arthur paused, not expecting this question. He told himself that, _no_ he most definitely did not love this vociferous, obnoxious, jejune American. Who could? He gathered the strength he needed to crush the hopeful stare he was receiving. "Absolutely not."

Alfred flinched and whispered, "Was it worth it then? Making love with me and going straight back to her?"

Arthur's eye twitched, and he took a shaky breath. "We didn't make love. We… made a huge mistake, and I could have ruined my marriage. It will never happen again. End of story." He turned away from the man, hiding the silent stream of sorrow that was hastily racing down his cheeks.

The confusion was swept from Alfred's face and replaced by agony. He clutched at his chest and squeezed his eyes tightly as his world came crashing down on him.

Loud and unyielding, the bell alerted the two heartbroken men the end of lunch. Alfred removed his glasses and wiped them on the edge of his left sleeve –a habit Arthur had noticed when he was upset.

"I can't," Alfred choked on his words. "I can't change your mind? You're not even going to let me fight for you…" he trailed off, and the first students started wandering in. Arthur bit his lip and shook his head slowly. He took a deep breath to compose himself and walked to the door to show Mr. Jones out.

"Mr. Jones, I believe you have a class now," Arthur said stiffly and nodded toward the emptying halls.

Alfred sniffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could take a hint after all. He strode out of the classroom with as much dignity as he could muster.

* * *

><p>In the four days that had passed, Maddie had reverted back to her old self. Ego boosts weren't such a good thing, she had decided, so she settled on wearing her baggy t-shirts, long skirts, pants, scarves, and anything else that modestly covered her body. Whenever Francis –she refused to call him <em>Papa<em> like he wanted her to– offered more stylish clothes, she just threw them into the growing pile in the back of her closet. The trifling attention she got on Monday was back to normal. She was as noticeable as a dirty heads-down penny. Nobody cared for an extra piece of copper when shiny new dimes and quarters were available.

Maddie was walking to her locker from French class, which was something else altogether. She was born and raised in Canada, and she had lived in France for a couple years after her mother died. Like the wonderful guardian he is, Francis had failed to mention to the school that she already knew this language. It was too late to switch classes now, but she rather liked the idea of having a laid-back class for once.

This mentality was crushed, however. Just yesterday after a night of drinking and seducing women, the frog came home completely smashed. He blubbered something about becoming a teacher to make her life easier. She ignored this and put the man to bed like the responsible person she was. Sure enough, he was subbing for Ms. Chester, the perky, giggly teacher that thought she knew everything about the French language. There was a rumor going around that she caught a deadly disease, which is why she was out for the last two days. When Maddie walked in the classroom today, there was the man that held all of her odium.

Where he even went to college, much less how he even attained the degree it took to become a teacher, was beyond her. She couldn't imagine anyone handing that man a diploma, even if it meant his life. During the forty five minute torture session, he kept glancing at her and smirking, as if saying, "AHA! I'll always be better than you, even if I'm a worthless scumbag." She was even forced to call him _Mister Bonnefoy_ when he called on her for a question –which was pretty damn often.

Maddie marched to her locker with steam spewing from her ears. She _hated_ her father so much and wished the worst on him. She was fuming so much that she didn't notice an Asian boy clad in hipster clothes –large fake glasses, bow tie, skinny jeans, boots, styled hair and all– running her way. He had his eyes squinted, lips puckered, and arms flailing, giggling all the while. She had heard of this kid before, and she suddenly felt a thin sheen of sweat coat her body. Maddie looked for a place to hide and moved to pull her bag in front of her chest, but it was in vain. He yelled something in Korean, and his hand stopped its flailing to plant itself on her breast.

The moment seemed to last forever where all she could do was stare at his blushing, giggling face in horror. Her mouth couldn't shape words, and her leg wouldn't move to kick him where it hurt most. Time picked back up, and the boy ran along to fondle some other poor girl, who screamed and hit him with her purse. It was more than Maddie had done. Her face felt so hot, and her hands shook uncontrollably. Her vision became blurry, and before anybody could see, she made a mad dash to the closest vacant room.

A heavy blanket of darkness was cast over the room. It smelled faintly of cigarettes and alcohol that someone attempted covering up with cleaning products. Maddie bumped into many protruding objects and felt a strong sense of claustrophobia take over. She cowered in the corner with her face in her hands. Tears leaked in between her fingers. She felt disgusting, embarrassed, and molested.

Her head jerked up when a thin strip of light invaded her cover. The iridescence spread, and the door screeched as it was opened fully, revealing Mr. Beilschmidt. The light from the outside world created a halo effect on the man, yet he had a devilish aura with his blood red eyes and mischievous smirk. The ghost of laughter lingered on his face until he took notice to her. His eyes widened, and he remembered her from Monday and how his attempt to comfort her had been futile. She looked so desolate and unhappy –girls weren't supposed to look like that, in Gilbert's opinion. Blood rushed through the elder's veins, and he was struck with the strongest pull to put a smile on her face. But first things first.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked gruffly. He didn't mean it to come out unkind at all, but her eyes widened in fear.

She stood up quickly and grabbed her previously abandoned bags. "I-I'm terribly sorry. I didn't realize. I'll just go now," she stammered out. Maddie ducked her head and tried to run around him.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Mr. Beilschmidt said as he stepped in her way with his hands up to show that he was not trying to get her into trouble. "It's okay, all right? Relax, have a seat," he offered her the ripped computer chair. She looked at it in skeptics but sat down anyway. Gilbert couldn't take his eyes off her. Leftover tears clung to the eyelashes of the girl, and her blonde locks framed her face perfectly when she smoothed out her pigtails. Gil perched himself on the edge of his hand-me-down teacher's desk and cocked his head, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. "So what's buggin' ya?"

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><p>Mr. Jones held the look of a bum off the street. He had suddenly turned haggard-like on the walk from Arthur's classroom to his own. His shoulders were slumped, and the corners of his mouth succumbed to gravity. His sadness ate at the edges of his mind, and he couldn't even concentrate on handing out lab papers to his students. Home loomed just two periods and a drive away, but time meant nothing to him anymore. He felt like dead weight.<p>

He shoved the papers under a stunned girl's nose, telling her to pass them out. Alfred slumped into his seat and rubbed at the light coat of stubble on his chin. Anger, betrayal, sadness, disappointment, and a thousand other emotions battled for control. He squeezed his eyes tightly and let out the mix between a sigh and groan. The high pitched voices of the nonstop talking students reverberated in his skull, and he gritted his teeth.

"Shut up," he said. It wasn't loud, nor was it soft. The class continued rambling on, and a girl in the front complained about a boy to her indifferent friend. The girl chittered on, annoying like a bird outside your window on an early Sunday morning. "Shut up," he said again. Few people took notice, but the ones that did were paralyzed with trepidation. "SHADDAP!" Mr. Jones roared, casting the classroom into perturbed taciturnity. "This is a classroom, not a social networking site. I don't want to hear about your boyfriend obviously cheating on you, especially if you're too idiotic to notice that small fact," he cast a hateful glance to the bird girl. "We are to be doing the lab, not wasting time gossiping."

He clenched his fists and sat back down in his seat. He hadn't even realized he stood up to admonish the class. Not one student made a sound after the outburst, just worked on their worksheets individually despite being allowed to work in groups. Mr. Jones's angry sighs were the only things breaking the tangible silence. Although, to Alfred it was very loud and stuffy as his mind was buzzing with inference. He damned the choice Arthur made and hated the consequences of a broken heart.

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><p><strong>AN 2: So yeah… I feel like this chapter didn't have a lot of emotion at all, even though my lovely BETA/sister, XSDansa, told me otherwise. I had a lot of trouble actually writing this, which is why it's a bit shorter than normal. ****And I got a JOB! So I'm gonna have less time to write… Quality over quantity is what I always say though. ****  
>As always, I love you guys so so much, and I'd appreciate some feedback.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5  BONUS!

**A/N 1: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? EXTRA CHAPTER? LOL. This is actually a bonus chappie on what happened to Lovino and Mr. Carriedo after Arthur left in chapter three. Enjoy, mein lieblings. (:**

**PAIRINGS: ****SPAMANO.****Not USUK.**

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><p>Lovino's limbs shook just like every other day he was about to enter Spanish class. The twelfth grader took a deep breath and ignored the heat spreading across his face. This was the one class that he could forget about his younger brother and biased grandfather. He could forget the cruel, horrible world that always picked favorites. In here, <em>he<em> was the favorite. Mr. Carriedo always treated Lovino with respect, despite the cooing of how "cute" he apparently was. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but the Italian absolutely loved the way Mr. Carriedo taught. The words rolled off his tongue in the most sensual way, and when he turned around to write on the blackboard, even that was erotic. The way his slacks hugged his Spanish ass in just the right way had Lovino squirming in his seat uncomfortably day after day.

Spanish wasn't exactly Lovino's forte, but when he was offered the choice of Spanish IV versus an elective that he didn't care for anyway, he didn't hesitate to pick the Spanish class. He couldn't remember life before the nonchalant, tan, sexy man strode into the room during freshman year. Almost immediately, Lovino was taken by the devilish smile and messy mop of hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it so badly –to smooth it down of course, since the idiot didn't know what a comb was.

He sighed and rested his head in his hand. Mr. Carriedo only spoke in Spanish so slowly, and the Italian continuously found himself dozing while being serenaded by the Spanish accent. He never actually fell asleep in class, since the man was so damn captivating, and he didn't want to miss one second of his presence.

Despite all these gay thoughts, Lovino just blubbered like a moron when Mr. Carriedo spoke to him. The Spanish man used to dote on him and poke his cheeks or pull on flyaway hairs despite Lovino's incoherent protests. He didn't want people to think he was a homo after all. But that all ended when Mr. Carriedo swept him up in a giant hug when he found out he was taking more Spanish classes. Lovino had been surprised in the least, and when the large arms embraced him and the heady scent of cologne and sweat filled his nostrils, his body had reacted. His manhood was pressed tight up against the leg of his Spanish teacher, and Lovino had let out a gasp. His cheeks flamed, and sweat gathered at the nape of his neck. The moment seemed to last forever as Mr. Carriedo's eyes slowly widened as realization hit him.

After that little incident, they had a silent mutual agreement to forget whatever that was. Lovino even debated on taking a study hall instead, but as soon as he saw the ass on the first day of school, the notion was swept away.

"Lovi," Mr. Carriedo called out, making sure to drawl out end of his name. His head snapped up, and he was dragged out of his reverie.

He mumbled out, "What?" while his eyes averted, and his cheeks flared with pink. He brought a hand up to fiddle with his hair as he was scrutinized.

"Mind staying after class? You still have a study hall next period, right? I'll e-mail your next teacher." He smiled brightly, not even paying attention to how corporeal his voice sounded while saying Lovino's name. He didn't wait for a response and dismissed the class early.

Lovino dropped his hands to his lap to hide how excited he was just to be alone with the Spaniard. _God_, he needed to get laid. The late night fantasizing just wasn't cutting it anymore.

"So, Lovi," Mr. Carriedo said sternly after hitting the Enter button to send the e-mail. "I've noticed your grades slipping a bit. You have been doing poorly on test and quizzes, and you don't really pay attention in class. Are you sure you want to continue taking Spanish IV?" he said, voice dripping concern and that heavenly accent.

Lovino didn't hear a word he said. He was too captivated by the sculpted lips forming accentuated words that hit right where it felt best. He squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with how god damned _tight _his pants were. He stood up and walked to the door, making sure to shake his hips tauntingly. He began to shut the door when he was interrupted. "Lovi, what are you doing?"

The Italian turned back around to face Mr. Carriedo, door forgotten. His face was hot, as was the rest of his body. Lovino was sick of just watching him every day. He felt a desperate need to touch the man like never before. Mr. Carriedo stood up and chuckled nervously at the look Lovino was giving him. He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

Lovi had no idea how much his roseate face and swinging hips turned Antonio on. The cute, dazed look he always had in class was adorable, but the look he was getting now was something else altogether. He was a minor however, and a student at that. _Hands off! _Antonio could get into some serious- wait. Lovi's hands were on his chest. What was going on? His heart rate elevated and he looked around the room for any means of escape before he could succumb to his most secret covet.

"Aheheheheheh," he tittered. "Ehhh, Lovi?" he drawled. Lovi was so very close, and Antonio took a few steps back.

"Do you remember the first words you taught me?" Lovi suddenly asked. His voice was husky and his eyes glazed over. He advanced on Antonio again, and the Spaniard suddenly felt a pain on the back of his legs. He grunted and looked down to see that he had reversed straight into his desk. "You taught me _besame_," Lovino whispered into his ear. His face lingered to take in the scent of strawberry scented shampoo and to lick Antonio's earlobe.

A shiver went through Mr. Carriedo, and he gripped Lovi's arms. His mind was irresolute, but he managed to stutter out, "Lovi, I-I don't think this is such a good ide-."

"I can't help just sitting in this class anymore, with your damned back turned to me," Lovi continued to whisper, effectively cutting Antonio off. The Spaniard averted his eyes, so as not to be seduced by the hazel depths of Lovino's. "Stop looking away, dammit. I-I want a _besame_. I need one." He began to say Mr. Carriedo but corrected himself, "Antonio, kiss me."

Antonio made the mistake of looking into the lusty eyes of his student. They pleaded for pleasure, love, and release. He gave in with a small groan and finally made the descent to the novice of love-making. Their lips crashed together in a fervor of pent up lust and yearning. Lovi's inexperienced hands gripped Antonio's shoulders as he leaned on his tiptoes to diminish any possible space left between them. Mr. Carriedo pulled Lovi in a tight embrace, so as to leave none of the boy in the eyes of the world.

Despite being as excited as both of them were, they took things slowly. Antonio's large hands stroked up and down the spine of Lovino's back while he moved to lick and kiss down his jaw and neck. Lovi tipped his head back to let out a gasp and give Mr. Carriedo more room to work with. Lovi's entire body felt on fire and hypersensitive. His legs began to shake, and if not for the Spaniard, he would have crashed to the floor. He breathily told the teacher to move and just take him already –in more eloquent terms of course!

Antonio chuckled and slowly licked his way back up to Lovino's pink face. He took in all the beauty of the tanned Italian skin, dark brown pin-straight hair, and the one stray curl that always seemed to defy gravity. He huffed out and pulled Lovi up from sitting on the desk. Their hands intertwined, and Antonio led them out the door to a more sequestered place –Gilbert's "office." They practically ran down the halls with Lovino trailing behind out of breath.

Antonio stopped just outside a door that clearly read "Custodial Closet." He looked back to Lovi with his eyebrows raised and bottom lip pouting out, as if to say, "Is this place okay?" Lovino squeezed his hand as hard as he could, and a soft growl escaped his lips. He was getting very impatient, so the closet would have to do. Beaming brightly, Antonio knocked on the door and received no answer. The door was thrown open and the men were thrust into the darkened, cluttered room. Lovino attacked his neck with sloppy kisses from behind while Antonio looked for a reasonable surface to physically love the boy. The cluttered desk that resembled his own claimed his attention. Antonio gripped Lovino's hips and roughly sat him on the desk while shoving away empty soda cans, cigarette packs, and dirty magazines.

Their lips collided together again and clothes were gauchely discarded as the need became too great. Lovino's bare chest heaved as the Spaniard's hands wandered. He let out a groan when the warmth of the other body was removed. Antonio was frantically searching the drawers and came back successful with a jar of Vaseline and a small packet. He opened the makeshift lubrication and climbed back on the shivering body of his student.

Lovino, having made extensive research on the subject of homosexuals in the seclusion of his room late at night knew the next step wouldn't feel good at first, even before Mr. Carriedo warned him. Despite this, he parted his thighs shakily. He shut his eyes as tight as they would go, and Antonio disappeared from view. Lovino felt a probing and tried to relax his entire body. He let out a small whimper when the large fingers began moving and Antonio's hot mouth encased the head of his cock.

He bit his lips and tongue to stop from embarrassing himself with more moaning. Antonio moved with such ease and made the experience all the more worthwhile. He inserted the third and final finger slowly and waited for the boy to adjust. Silent tears escaped the corners of Lovi's eyes. Antonio rolled on the condom and quickly slicked up his shaft. He stopped and moved to plant a soft kiss to the Italian's forehead.

"Lovi, Lovi," he murmured. "Please don't cry. The pain will be over soon."

He sniffed and retorted, "I'm not crying, you bastard. I'm not as much of a sissy as my brother claims." Lovino looked away as his face became ever brighter. Antonio brushed a clean finger to his lover's red cheek and smiled mischievously.

"You'll be screaming in ecstasy by the time I'm done with you. Which means you _are_ a sissy," he laughed. Lovino's rejoinder was lost as Antonio aligned their hips and slowly began pushing into the tightness. Lovino slapped a hand to his mouth to muffle a groan. He couldn't lie; it didn't feel good at all. All the forums and porno lied to him. It hurt, and he just wanted it to end. He gripped for anything around him as tears fell shamelessly. Antonio placed tender kisses to his face and stroked his body to soothe the pain. He was trying new angles, desperate to stop Lovino's discomfort.

Finally, Lovino let out a loud moan and the tears ceased. His eyes widened, and as Antonio thrust into the same spot Lovino threw his head back. A shrill cry echoed around the room as the smaller was thrown into a shower of bliss. Antonio paused to hook Lovino's legs over his shoulders. The momentum of their hips increased, and the world around them slipped away. They were consumed in each other and the pleasure it brought.

Lovino was first to release. His substance melded together with the sweat on their bodies. Antonio rode out his orgasm longer, and he let out a strong moan as he did. They lay together as the world fell back into place. This time it felt right and wonderful, and nothing could separate them. A comfortable silence embraced them before they had to face the reality of their situation.

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><p><strong>AN 2: */sigh\ Yeah. I'm embarrassed. Reviews are lovely, aren't they?  
>AN 3: Make sure to check out the cover art that the wonderful Ophiiie did for this chapter on deviantart. **


	6. Chapter 6 Bad Decisions

**A/N 1: Mmmm. I love being on time.**

**Pairings  
><strong>**USUK  
>AsaFem!Kiku<br>AmeriFem!Can  
>PruFem!Can<br>SpaMano  
>USUkraine<br>FrUK**

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><p>Alfred squeezed his eyes shut as his lip trembled. He gripped the steering wheel as tight as he could, making his knuckles turn white. It took too much concentration to drive after being so brutally rejected. His body felt utterly exhausted, but his mind was all over the place. He wondered what the meaning of his life was anymore. These last few years, his objective had changed from molding young minds to one man. He truly loved the students, but he almost didn't care how each kid's life turned out.<p>

A car horn sounded from behind, and he opened his eyes. The suspended light in the middle of the intersection blared green. He sighed and stepped on the gas. Heartbroken and life shattering before his very eyes, Alfred didn't have a destination in mind. He drove mechanically without paying attention to his surroundings –which would scare any normal person.

He stopped the car and finally looked around himself. He was surrounded by small, run-down houses and rusty gates. The road was cracked and the paint faded. The grass in the gardens was a tangible replica of the darkened, gray sky. His car looked like a movie star's compared to the others that lined the streets. It was a place Alfred recognized, but he always hated coming here. Yet, it was the one place he knew he could always fall back on if needed. He just hoped Kat wouldn't kick him out upon seeing him.

* * *

><p>Arthur sniffed and clenched his hands into tight fists. His head felt like exploding into a thousand pieces. He didn't want to go home, but he couldn't bear to stay in the school that reminded him so much of Alfred. So, he went to his car in the darkened lot and sat. His brain was flooded with images and memories that he hated and loved at the same time. The only thing breaking the silence was his slow breathing as he remembered the day that all hell broke loose. The day his skin felt on fire with pleasure, the day it felt so good to break loose, the day that wasn't supposed to happen. His body wanted more, despite how hard he refused it. His hand moved down his chest of its own accord. He tilted his head back as it wandered further, petting outside the cloth. He didn't want to think anymore. It hurt too much. He just wanted to feel as good as that last day. Arthur's breathing picked up, and he desperately clawed at his belt buckle. His hand slipped inside and stroked–<p>

A shrill ring interrupted him, and he stopped immediately. What the bloody hell did he think he was doing anyway? And especially in the school parking lot? He hurriedly withdrew his hand and answered his phone, "Yes, hello. Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"_Ah, you sound so _stimulated,_ mon cher_," a breathy voice whispered into Arthur's ear.

"Francis."

"_Don't sound so disappointed, Arthur. I have a proposition for you, yes?"_

He sighed and said, "Not interested."

Francis pouted, _"But you ignore me all day. We are co-workers now! Humor me, won't you?"_

Arthur had heard those words countless times before. _Humor me._ And he always had in the end. His face formed a pink hue as he remembered all the times he had given in to the French lilt and seduction. "I'm married man now, Francis! We're n-not in university anymore. You, you can't just expect me to-"

_"Arthur, Arthur. I understand," _Francis said, saddened. _"But if you change your mind, the spare is in the mailbox, as always. Until next time." _The line went dead.

Arthur, now slightly frustrated, started up his car and began the short drive home.

"Kat, I'm so sorry," Alfred's voice broke as rivers of lament ran down his face and stained his shirt. "I never wanted to do this. I never wanted to break your heart."

Kat, who had listened to the whole story, sat expressionless. She sighed and rubbed away her sympathetic tears, making her black makeup streak. "Alfred, I'm hurt. But I am happy that I finally got an explanation. She scooted closer to the distraught man and put an arm around his shoulders as he cried into his hands. "Arthur denies all the feelings?"

"Yes," Alfred whispered. "I'm starting to believe him, too. Why would anybody love me?"

"I loved you."

Alfred sighed and otherwise stayed silent. He didn't want to be cheered up. He wanted to be told what to do.

"Look, Alfie. I think you should try to forget the man. Even if he did feel something for you, he _is_ married. To a woman, at that. You can't just go ruining marriages."

"It takes two for something like that," he mumbled.

Kat sighed, "Regardless of that fact, you'd still feel guilty. What about Sakura? I thought you liked her."

"She's a sweet woman." Alfred's voice was starting to lose its charming smoothness. It sounded duller with every word he spoke.

"Forget about him."

"I'll try. I really will."

Kat's hand started rubbing circles into Alfred's tense shoulders, and she rested her head near his. "Would you like some help?"

Alfred's head snapped over and gave Kat a death glare. He said, "Not on your life."

"All right, all right. Look, you know I work third shift, so gotta leave. I have to go in at 8:00."

Alfred looked at his watch. It was already 6:45 P.M.! He had been here for far too long. The American rose, thanked Kat, and left without another word.

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><p>Arthur felt like a stranger walking into his own house. His footsteps echoed throughout the infinite halls, and the hanging portraits seemed to glare at him. He had never felt so alone in his life. That is, until he almost ran into Sakura. He gripped onto her shoulders to steady her, for she was about to fall from surprise. He immediately released her and went to walk passed when she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.<p>

"Arthur," she said quietly. He looked back at his wife with dead eyes. "I need to know what I did wrong. It's killing me to see you like this every day."

Arthur humorlessly chuckled and removed her hand. "You did nothing wrong, my dear. I've just been having a tough time with work is all."

"Please don't lie to me," she said. "Your boss called me. Ms. Braginski wanted to know if anything happened to you in the past month. She said you weren't getting forms in on time, and you were acting more or less the same as you do here."

Arthur's head was filled with the picture of the smiling Russian he called "boss." Shivers ran up and down his spine in fright. If she knew, no doubt she would be confronting him in person any day now.

"Well? I thought we took a vow not to every keep secrets from each other, Arthur!"

"I'm sorry, Sakura. I've just been thinking too hard lately," Arthur said, scrambling around his head for an excuse.

"About?" she pouted.

"W-Well… About our marriage," Arthur stuttered out. Sakura's face took on a surprised look. Was Arthur going to divorce her?

"No, no, love. Nothing bad it's just," he took in a deep breath, "we're married, and I'm almost thirty two years old. Don't you think we should finish settling down?"

"_Oh_. You want," she whispered, "to have a child?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Is that what it sounded like he wanted? He was merely trying to suggest that they move to one of their home countries! He knew that Sakura didn't really care for living in America. He only wanted to be as far away from Alfred as possible. He didn't want any more slip ups, for Sakura's sake.

"Oh, Arthur! Why didn't you say so sooner?" she exclaimed. "I have to call Mother!" she shouted before running to the kitchen phone.

Arthur couldn't think. He wasn't much of a children person. Was he seriously ready for a baby? That would mean he would have to–

He suddenly remembered what he was about to do in the privacy of his car. His cheeks flushed as something down below twitched. For fuck's sake, _why_? Why did he have to be so goddam horny? Arthur made a grab for his keys and ran back to his car with a set destination in his mind.

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><p>Arthur checked his watch. It read 6:15 P.M. After a quick check in the school's office –which, if he was caught would cost him his job– he started searching for a certain house. By the time he found what he was looking for, the dreary sky started its path to night. The Briton slinked up the stone path and slipped his hand into the iron mailbox. The key that was left specifically for him dug into the palm of his hand as he gripped it. However, he found he had no need for it. The door was suddenly flung open.<p>

"Mr. Kirkland?" said a quiet voice. "What are you doing here?"

"A-Ah, Madeline!" he said, pulling at the edge of his collar

"Maddie."

"Yes, of course. Is your father home tonight?"

"Yeah, one sec," she said before calling "Dad!" over her shoulder. A moment later, Francis showed up wearing a silk robe.

"Ah, Arthur. So you did decide to show up," he smirked. "Do come in. Ah, Madeline. Would you mind going out tonight? Thank you, darling." He hadn't waited for her answer. Francis pushed the slight girl out with a wad of bills and the keys to the Ford Fiesta in the driveway. As soon as the door was closed, Arthur was pushed up against the door and roughly kissed. He reveled in the attention his body was getting. Everything Francis touched felt good. Not the kind of good Alfred had caused. No, that was just plain amazing. This kind was different. It was familiar and aggressive.

Arthur's pants were suddenly around his ankles, and Francis was gripping his manhood. He let out a groan of satisfaction. As he watched the Frenchman took in as much as he could, Arthur couldn't help but imagine someone else. Someone with shorter hair, fogged up glasses, and a loving smile. His heart dropped to his toes when he realized what he was doing.

The Frenchman looked up at his temporary lover. The man had silent tears and was shaking like crazy. "Arthur?" Francis questioned.

Arthur pushed away the other man. He couldn't do this. It didn't feel like he was cheating on Sakura anymore. It felt like he was betraying the charming man that invaded his dreams every night. He choked on a sob and reached for his discarded clothing. "I can't do this, Francis," he whimpered.

"But we have already started! Why come at all if you were just going to deny me in the end?" Francis pouted. "Come on, Arthur. It's just one night." Francis reached for Arthur's hips again.

"No, Francis. It's much bigger than that. So much bigger," he shook his head.

"Oh, you know I am," Francis winked.

"You disgust me," Arthur sneered as he slammed the door to leave.

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><p>Alfred set down his red inked pen and sighed. He had been trying to grade his ever growing stack of papers, but he really didn't feel like it. All he wanted to do was forget all that had happened in the past month. He wanted things to go back to normal.<p>

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone frantically knocking on his door. He looked through the peephole and immediately started fumbling with the chain and lock. The door flung open, revealing Arthur with his blond mop of hair and sparkling forest eyes.

"Alfred," he moaned in misery, "I'm so sorry!" He stood completely still with his eyes on the floor and opalescent cheeks shining.

Alfred had never seen something so beautiful before. All he wanted to do was wrap up the Brit in a bear hug and cuddle and kiss away the sorrow. He reached out and patted him on the back, despite his heart egging on more. "It's okay, pal. Shit happens, eh?"

"W-What?" he stuttered out. "No, Alfred. I'm seriously sorry for everything that happened."

The American's face darkened in a fit of feigned rage, "Yeah, me too." Arthur's dejection plainly showing on his face, Alfred couldn't help but try to ease the pain. "Look, why don't we just forget everything that happened?"

"I want to be with you," Arthur mumbled. His face grew a darker roseate hue. He looked up and said, "Please, Alfred." He wrapped his arms around Alfred's shoulders and buried his face in the hollow of his neck.

Alfred didn't move. It was taking all his willpower and sense of justice to stay still. In his dead voice he echoed Kat's words, "Heroes don't ruin perfectly good marriages, Arthur. You said it yourself. It's not fair to Sakura."

Arthur's world felt like his world crashed around him. The embrace he was giving wasn't being received. He thought of Sakura and her happiness, and he choked on his next words of begging. Instead he said, "You're right. We should just go back to normal."

"Right," Alfred said determinedly. He unwrapped Arthur's arms and took a step back. He could literally feel his heart cracking a little more with every inch of space in between them. "I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cracked as he said this, on the verge of tears. The door slammed shut before the first could fall, however.

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><p><strong>AN 2: Yeah, a bit short, eh? Sorry about that. Make sure to check out the SpaMano BONUS chapter. Thanks for sticking with me this far. I have no idea what to do next with it. Heh heh. */sweat**


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